I *heart* Bombay (and well..Boston)

I'm urban..in the way other people are mountain-people or tunafish junkies.
I love city life...something about dreary concrete blocks and grumpy people totally gets my juices flowing.
Ergo, this will be a blog about me, my two favourite cities (Bombay and Boston), my addiction to Vietnamese coffee and my views on Gregorian chant and it's efficacy in curing some types of tympannic membrane rupture.
Enjoy!

Sunday, August 28, 2005

*Excuse* me..

I was going through a couple of old journals the other day and just browsing my list of dates/loves and friends I've accumulated through the years. I saw this episode on "journal keeping" on Oprah once and thought it's a great idea...till today! Anyway, confronted with the evidence of my life so far, I sat down to read and many laughs, a few tears and general indifference later, I made a list (I'm huge on making lists of random shit) of reasons why I'm not with any of these people today...reasons they gave me to justify not having to see me anymore.

Also realized, I'm the person broken up *with*, never really had the pleasure of breaking up with anyone. I can't wait to fuck up my next relationship by waiting for the right time to say "Babe, it's over".

Anyway, here is the list of "excuses" I've been given over the years by dates/one-night stands/boyfriends/friends for not wanting to be around me anymore...(I am *such* a masochist!!!)

1. You're not Asian enough for me. (*throws map of Asia at him and points out India*)2. You have an opinion on most things. (i didn't know the market for doormat housewives existed in the US....Apparently I'd forgotten my ji huzzoor, aap ki marzi huzzoor dialogues)3. You're too thin. (it took you 6 months of almost daily bonking before you realized this eh?)4. You won't let me sleep with other guys. (NO SHIT Sherlock!)5. I'm too succesful to be with you. (Umm. Why did you thinkI was with you to begin with?)6. I'm still sleeping with my ex boyfriend. (That would explain the hickeys on your neck I'm sure I didn't leave!)7. I'm not ready to date yet. ("But I'll sleep with you and everyone else and throw that in your face"...hmm. Yeah makes perfect sense)8. Your friend is hotter than you are. (*sound of door slamming on his sorry ass*)9. We don't think alike. (OMG! Stepford wife alert!)10. You won't "do *it*". (Hell yeah, I won't! Not with you asking me every 2 minutes, I won't!)11. I lost your phone number. (See, that would make sense IF I hadn't call you like 3 times over the week and talk to you!)12. You are too intellectual for me. (That's the last time I date a pediatric oncologist I swear!)

These are true. All true. I'll leave you to figure out which of these guys I had a fling with and which ones I atually cared about..enough to be very very upset. And then throw those assumptions away, cause the reasons the ones I cared about gave me were the el crappo, muy stupidoso ones...Not Asian enough indeed! I still fume at that one!

M.'s reason for breaking up was different. And among ALL the reasons I've heard in my life, his was the most real, the most believable. Which is why he'll always be a part of me. Closure is very hard indeed when you have no anger towards the other person to push it forward.

In other news, I was at the Gay Bombay party yesterday. Had a blast. No one asked me to dance, my date made out and then went home with another guy and my cab overcharged me. But I was pleasantly drunk. And in the end, that's all that matters.

Hic.

Current Music:Time after Time - Cyndi Lauper

(In my head, I'm replaying the dance at Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion)

Saturday, August 27, 2005

So what's on your Ipod?

I had a friend ask me what music I have on my Ipod yesterday. So I figured I'd *actually* listen and pay atention to the music I have on there. I'm one of those anal-retentive people who needs to change their music according to their life situation/feelings at any given time. So, I'm trying an experiment to see what I'm listening to, and what words in particular stand out in that particular song (which led me to keep it in my playlist for how I feel right now).

1. Rain (Madonna) When you looked into my eyes And you said goodbye could you see my tears When I turned the other way Did you hear me say I'd wait for all the dark clouds bursting in a perfect sky You promised me when you said goodbye That you'd return when the storm was done And now I'll wait for the light, I'll wait for the sun

2. Turn off the light (Nelly Furtado) I'm searching for things that I just cannot see Why don't you don't you don't you come and be with me I pretend to be cool with me, want to believe That I can do it on my own without my heart on my sleeve I'm running, I'm running, catch up with me life Or is it love that I'm looking to find It's all in me, can't you see, why can't you, why can't you see it's all in me

4. I hope you dance (Lee Ann Womack) Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they're worth takin’ And lovin’ might be a mistake but it's worth makin’ Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter When you come close to selling out, reconsider Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance

5. Iris (GooGoo Dolls)And you can't fight the tears that ain't comingOr the moment of truth in your liesWhen everything feels like the moviesYeah you bleed just to know you're alive

Hmm.

Paging Dr. Freud. Or Jung or whatever. (Insert name of shrink here..)Anyone think I might be a tad miserable missing M.?

Current music (after resetting Ipod back to normal play mode):I will survive - Gloria Gaynor

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Booking it..

Headed over to the Strand book sale at Juhu yesterday with my partner-in-crime Meenakshi to replenish my bedside reading material (Yep. This is what yours truly is reduced to doing in bed. Reading.) After the rather embaressing time at the last sale when I found out I'd shopped for about 10 grand worth more than I actually had budgeted for, this time I broke the piggy-bank (It *was* a nice plump Holstein instead of your typical pink pig. I am ever the religious Hindu boy) and headed down with a rather large budget of 8,000Rs.

So after about 30 minutes, we pull up right next to Amitabh's bungalow. After doing our "sashtang namaskars" and "Oye Bubblies" to Abhishek (who we knew was ensconced in that fortress probably wanking off to gay porn - in my head, or planning his wedding sherwani - in Meenakshi's head), we walked over to the school auditorium where the sale was.

I immediately went looking for good history bargains while Meenakshi hung out at the Indian author section. I was majorly disappointed by the selection/choice this time. Apparently, these big bookshop guys came by and picked everything remotely interesting the first day itself! Bastards!

We spotted several schoolkids (can't be more than 10 years old) coming through and rushing in groups to the "Illustrated Joys of Sex" section where they spent some fun times pointing stuff out to each other ("Arre! yeh dekh na! Wow!"). I waited till they left and headed over myself ("Arre! How do I do that! Wow"). These straight couples have so many positions they can try.... mucho envious. I found 2 homo-friendly books. One was on Tackling Homophobia (Boring!) and the other was Erotic Lesbian Literature ("Cliterature" as I like to call it). Neither of which saw me reach out to grab it. On the other hand, there was this very cute architect (OK. I was projecting) browsing through the art books. I stuck around leafing through Mughal Patterns In Central Indian Textiles just so I could see his intense look as he browsed the art of Raphael. Very intense. I could almost see him disapproving of my toast at our wedding reception. (Well, no harm in planning ahead I always say!)

Anyway, I had to tear myself away from Mr. IntenseArchitectGuy because I spotted the James Mitchener section and set out to look for the 2 books I still don't have. And of course with my luck, I find out that both were bought by someone just a few hours ago. Dejected, I trudged over to the classics section and splurged 1255Rs on Volumes 4,5 and 6 of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (To match my Vols. 1,2 and 3). I will be quoting Romanus Lecapanus and Zoe Porpherogenitus for the rest of the month methinks. Probably a good thing to do is stay away from me unless you want to hear how Procopius' histories of Justinian and Theodora are so much more entertaining than Anna Comnena's panygeric to her dad (OK. So she didn't call him Dad.)

I ended the trip with a disappointing 2.5 Grand spent. Books I bought? Well, besides Gibbon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire", I also bought "Equator", the "Mammoth book of Historical Whodunits", an analysis of how the Western World views Scherzade and Asterix and the Goths.

Bedroom reading tonight? An analysis of how St. Simeon Stylites brought about a revival of Christianity in Antioch.

Monday, August 22, 2005

*Tails* from Carter Road...

Promenading on Carter Road in Bandra has taken a whole new meaning now that I'm single. Suddenly, I'm seeing guys everywhere. (Well, to be expected I suppose ... seeing as 60% of Bombay is male!) I mean cute guys just in case some of you think I'm all about the pot-bellied unclejis bitching about their wives on their daily strolls...

My daily constitutional (I hate/love this word) is about 7pm every evening and consists of walking from work to Carters (If you're a born Bandra boy, it's always Carters..never Carter Road...or heavens..Kartar Road! That is the Khar Sindhi aunty way!!). Getting onto the promenade and walking up to Danda and back a couple of times and finally settling down at the Coffee Day there for a well-deserved cappucino ("Yes! I said regular, NO FLAVOR please!!").Out comes the book (that's my version of the dark sunglasses). My theory is: If someone comes up to me and talks to me, he'd probably be literate (Yes. I'm now down to accepting literate as a qualifier for a date. Lo! How the mighty have fallen!). He can probably talk about books intelligently and probably likes a guy who reads. Well, someone who reads between passionate bouts of almost continuous love making that is. OK, so he doesn't know about that. Yet.

Then again, if I don't like someone, I can always pretend I'm reading (most times, I actually am reading though..lest you think this is just my way of eliminating prospective mates). I met M. like this in Boston more than a year ago. So I think my method works. And the fact that I haven't met anyone in what seems like forever, just means hot men in Bandra/Khar don't read. We (For the purposes of this blog, I count myself as a hot man. Well, it IS my blog!), have the combined literacy level of a Bihari village that has lost it's last black slate to a rampaging mob of upper caste landlords. Sigh. Methinks it's time to move to where people read. Back to Boston?

Anyway, I ran into V last night at Carters.(The other V. Not me. Just someone who's confidence and ability to speak fluent French I admire. Compared to him, I'm a stuttering, blushing ninny with the French abilities of Jordy..Yup. Dur dur d'etre bebe!). We sat on a bench and watched/judged/critiqued...OK cruised!

We also discovered we like different kinds of men (Thank God. The competition in Bombay is fierce enough as it is. At least I can strike one of the list!). He likes them flat arsed, mustached and uncleji-like in prosperity level. I like them athletic, lithe (oooh. That's a sexy word!) and unable to remember the early 1970's.

We did see Nikhil Chinappa (PJ alert: Is his body double Nikhil Chindowna?) running past in his short, short shorts though. Looks so hot. Though word on the street (Well, on Carters anyway) is that though nature hasn't blesed him with technique, it's gifted him with an awesome tongue. How do I know? Well, I have my (female) sources. Sorry boys.

And then I trudge(d) my lonely way back. Stopped by Birdy's for a slice of chocolate gateau though. Hang on! Isn't gateau a French word? Nice. Looks like I'm improving already!

Current music:Le premier jour - Etienne Daho

(To go with the whole French theme...all that's missing is some French bread, French wine and a French kiss)

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Love - A poem by Pablo Neruda

This poem speaks more to me this weekend evening than any other I have ever read/heard or written. It has now been 3 weeks since the phonecall.

What's wrong with you, with us, what's happening to us? Ah our love is a harsh cord that binds us wounding us and if we want to leave our wound, to separate, it makes a new knot for us and condemns us to drain our blood and burn together.

What's wrong with you? I look at you and I find nothing in you but two eyes like all eyes, a mouth lost among a thousand mouths that I have kissed, more beautiful, a body just like those that have slipped beneath my body without leaving any memory.

And how empty you went through the world like a wheat-colored jar without air, without sound, without substance! I vainly sought in you depth for my arms that dig, without cease, beneath the earth: beneath your skin, beneath your eyes, nothing, beneath your double breast scarcely raised a current of crystalline order that does not know why it flows singing. Why, why, why, my love, why?

Friday, August 19, 2005

Judge away! (Part 2)

Thank you to all who liked the previous observations on the habits of that elusive animal Gaius Boius Indicus...all 2 of you.

*sniffs*

So here's to you both...you're the only reason I go to the Gay Bombay parties..to carry out my research so that you both can learn to identify those that live amongst us (and prepare the appropriate ammo if one of the chooses to leave his group and attack you).

To continue:Species: Gaius Bois Indicus

Sub Species: (contd.) I had to attend 2 more parties to identify these. These are a little more elusive compared to the 4 major sub species. I had to dress like one of them to be able to get close enough to research behaviour.

4. Activist boi/grrl/transgendered/queer person - Gaius Indicus MulletiiPrimarily identified by angry look on face as society denies him the right to shag whoever he meets on the next local train. Also only seen at a party when it follows a rally or an *action meeting* (OK. Not that kind of action..reserve that for the Call Center Bois). Plumage includes scruffy Tshirt, long hair and man-boobs.Will answer to Jayprakash, Iqbal or Lenin.

5. Professional boi - Gaius Gayforpayus IndicusSpotted along edge of dancefloor. Habits include smiling mysteriously, licking lips and touching self. Will not exhibit rest of plumage unless money changes hands. Doubles as Call Center Boi sometimes...but Gaius Gayforpayus Indicus is only lured out of his world when the new Nokia cellphone (price Rs. 25000) is launched. Is friends with all, but is especially friendly to Gaius Moneyus Bags Indicus.Responds to Joe, Alex or Andy.

6. White Firang boi - Gaius Gettinglaidus TouristiiThe only subspecies of genus Gaius Boius that is guarenteed a mate at the end of the evening. Dance or no dance. These are unusual in that a scruffy Tshirt and baggy jeans and sandals coupled with pasty white skin and tousled hair usually draw the biggest stares and glances. White Firang Bois are the particular favourite of the Middle Class Suburb Boi (Gaius Commuterus Trainii).Respond to Claude, Chris or Dave.

7. Model boi - Gaius Musclemarius Indicus SnootiiSurrounded by members of Gaius Malabar Indicus Gujju and the occasional Gaius Gettinglaidus Touristii, these bois revel in their cleavage showing Tshirts and tight jeans showing off the latest thong stylings. Their mating dance is unusual in that they are pre-occupied with looking at themselves in a mirror. A mate has already however been chosen before the evening begins. It usually is another member of the same subspecies or occasionally is a South Bombay Boi (Gaius Malabar Indicus Gujju).Respond to Shoaib, Ali or Amar.

Part 3 (when I get off my lovely round ass to write it) will deal with the travails of yours truly as he seeks a date from the throngs of Gaius Boius Indicii around. A date who's intelligent enough to debate politics and urban planning while being silly enough to giggle uncontrollably at badly dressed people.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Saloning it.

Your's truly succumbed to the notion that I can look even better if I spend 500 Rs. on my hair and had Meenakshi drag me off (well, not really..I was a willing bakra) to a salon. The same salon that fucked up her hairstyle the last time and that has rude eyebrow-shapers. Hah! Looks like I'd pissed her off or something....

Well, after waiting about 30 minutes, we found out that the next salonist/stylist/fag (?) wasn't going to be available for another 45 minutes because he was too busy coloring some macho dude's hair orange (oops..I mean copper-toned gold with platinum highlights). 45 minutes and 2 chicken burgers later, there I was in the hot seat. Literally. Macho dude really warmed up the seat for me.

What would you like this evening?- asks owner of salon..henceforth to be known as overtly highlighted, straightened, over greasy, accented yuppie. (or OHSOGAY). I dunno, I say. Something different. Something new. Something hot.

And then the hard sell. Before I realize, I'd committed myself to jagged hair at the back, weird stylings on the sides..and what can only be charitably described as a "Sadhana fringe" right up front. Sigh. And I'm paying for this mutilation? Anyway, about 20 minutes of having a stylist poking his dick into my shoulders ensued (Anyone wonder why there has to be SO MUCH body contact while you get your hair cut?). At the end of which I came out looking...well...not like me. I was and still am ambivalent. Havne't been able to style my hair the way it looked at the salon that night. And that scares me...Because I actually thought I looked good that night. And the fact that I can't replicate it means I'm NEVER GOING TO LOOK GOOD AGAIN!

See. People tend to judge you based on how you look that day (and it's a crock of shit if you say you don't judge ever...we ALL do). And my bangs don't seem to function around company...which is why I either look like I've just been rescued from the North Atlantic or some Bihari villager lost in the urban wilderness of Bombay. Hair gel ceases to work around me. Hair Spray is but a memory when it touches my hair. Wax? What's that? I'm a hair nightmare.

Icing on the cake? At the rate at which the Bombay air and water are doing their job, I won't have to worry about haircuts in about 10 years...

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:- Comfort- Passion- Good sex (and lots of it)

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order):- I once modelled for the Gap in New York.- Kissing is my favourite way to pass the time.- I have large feet (and consequently...)

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:(I object to this blatant hetero display! I'm making this about the same sex!)- I'm an arse and thigh guy. A good round arse and nice firm thighs encased in tight jeans....- Biceps- The strength to both carry me into bed and the gentleness to stroke my cheek with a finger..

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:- Have sex (It's been a while)- Go on a vacation to Europe- Salvage what's left of my relationship with M.

Seasonal sightings: Most often seen on weekends outdoors shopping, have never been seen in bookshops

Mating Ritual: (narrated in David Attenborough voice) One member of the species when identified by another prospective mate will begin the time honoured exchange of words that make the Gaius Bois Indicus mating ritual such a significant part of their lives.Let us eavesdrop on one such ritual. This one is happening on a Saturday night at an internet cafe. We must remember that hundreds of such rituals occur nightly during mating season which in the case of this species is curiously year-round. Let's listen shall we?

We leave our couple here. Stay tuned after the break as we investigate the peculiar problem of the Gaius Bois Indicus in the Bombay area where mating rituals almost always end in dissapointment as one or the other participant is unable to funrish a nest of the other's liking (or any nest at all!).

1. Call Center Boi -Gaius Callo Centrii Identified by streaked/higlighted hair, fake accents, tank tops and need to propagate species by agreeing to do the sleaziest things possible. Most often found in groups or hanging out with Older Gent Man - Gaius Moneyus Bags Indicus (#3). Usually respond to names like Kevin, Rahul and Amit.

2. South Bombay Boi - Gaius Malabar Indicus Gujju Identified by pout/sneer/grimace/upturned nose...or a combination thereof. Also prone to wearing the latest in DG, Prada and Gucci. Language variations include use of "dahling" and "LastWeekAtTheClub". Found in groups that shop, holiday, eat and mate together. Very incestous. Usually respond to Raj, Samir and Rohit.

3. Older Gent Man - Gaius Moneyus Bags Indicus Identified by appearance, potbelly and hairy chest. Subject will bandy around words like "Hello dear" and "You are sweet". Found dancing bhangra to hiphop music in the company of atleast 2-3 Call Center Bois. Answer to Rajendra or Vishwanath.

4. Middle Class Suburb Boi - Gaius Commuterus Trainii Known for swings between gay abandonment on the dancefloor and extreme paranoia outside. Will wear jeans that are too tight or too loose along with sneakers. Usually come with list of "things I will not do in bed". Married at 27. Answer to Rahul, Rohit or Amit.

Part 1 of the discovery of this previously unknown (but still flamboyant) species ends here. Stay tuned for Part 2...including never before scenes from an actual date, love and heartbreak in the Gaius Bois Indicus group and the question that's been troubling GBIs all "Is it OK to sleep with my best friends boyfriend?"

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Happiness is....

...a well fitting pair of jeans.

After years of stuffing my face, walking for hours everyday and some judicious helpings of doing the Dance of the Seven Veils, I've finally suceeded in moving enough blubber "down there" that my Lucky jeans fit me like a glove. A nice snug glove. Alas, in my efforts to improve the derriere, I seem to have neglected the thighs...

"Oh you have a nice arse, but I'm more of a thigh guy"

Crap! Why didn't I meet you when I had a pair to show off? (OK in the interests of not lying, I have NEVER had a pair of thighs worth showing off) I do have sexy feet though. Pity the market for foot fetishists seems to exist mostly in the Bavarian Alps. I need to shave them though. Sounds so gross. Shaving my feet before a party. Thank you Indian Heritage! Why couldn't you have given me what the lucky Mediterranean heritage guys get? Olive skin and nice arses? Or even what the Anglo-Saxon heritage wallahs get? Peaches and Cream skin and awesome accents?

Instead I get hairy feet, skin prone to stress-pimpling (Party tonight? Pop Pop Pop..that's 3 more pimples I need to deal with!) and curvaceous body shape (Memo to vengeful God above: I'm a man!! I ain't gonna be bearing no babies! I don't need this shelf of a pelvic floor thankyouverymuch!)

On the plus side I count among my blessings: Nice eyelashes and Lips-That-Angelina-Jolie-Wishes-Were-Hers. These lips have gotten me a lot more action that my dreary quoting of Jewish Talmud and advocacy of nuclear power on my dates ever did. (Though I had great luck with this Hassid Nuclear Scientist some years ago with that..Oy!)

Till God decides to forgive me and make me look like a Konkani JohnAbraham/UpenPatel/FlavorOfTheMonth, I suppose I'll have to get started on building up those walnut-cracking thighs...Sigh. A man's work is never done.

Current Music:Akheer by Juggy-D(This song is bloody marvelous...who knew someone with a name like Juggy-D could sing so sensitively?)

About Me

I'm tall, dark and handsome (OK..my mum says so..). I'm also
cheerful, talkative and wicked silly when I feel like it. I always pay extra at an airport for the emotional baggage I'm carrying. My attitude to life and love can be best summarized by the Pet Shop Boys song "What have I done to deserve this?". No I'm NOT Jewish.
I speak 7 languages yet can't answer the question "Where do you see this going?". I find myself singing old Goan *mandos* about unrequited love while I'm at a hiphop club. Yeah. I'm weird like that.